


Days of Fire

by Mandalore22, Red_October



Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandalore22/pseuds/Mandalore22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_October/pseuds/Red_October
Summary: Darth Sidious had a plan and a place for everything. Yet it is all put at risk when General Grievous's campaign comes crashing into Earth. When the Jedi race to intercept the Separatist leader, it is impossible to foresee what would happen next. Will Sidious's plans survive the invasion, or will Earth spell his end? Finally, can Earth survive it's a violent introduction to the galactic stage?
Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573798
Kudos: 5





	1. Impulse Desisions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! 
> 
> Well, it took some time but I finally mustered the courage to post a story on this site. Since this is my first one here, I am starting off relatively easy, and posting a heavily edited and cleaned up version of a story I began writing on FFN several years ago that goes by the same name (username: "ghost company"). If any of you know that version, don't worry, I am finishing that so this one can have an ending. I'll be posting chapters as I get them done and hope you all enjoy. :)

Six weeks ago, something had shifted in the force. Almost everyone was having visions. They varied slightly but they were all tainted with the darkside. However, after a while they were able to determine that it was the same planet, but at separate times. Some were of marching droids, behind a blood red sky. Others of cities being destroyed and people fleeing, fear saturating the air. While others were of times that were seemingly in the past- soldiers directing and sometimes shoving people into railcars, men rushing into a battle only to be shredded by slug throwers of some kind seconds later. The scenes were always different, as were the time periods, but they were always of war. As time had passed the visions became increasingly graphic, and disturbing. Despite all of the darkness, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope. The exact meaning of these visions was a source of endless debate among the council members. However, the fact that they were related told the council that they were of importance.

After one such debate, Obi Wan found himself exiting the council chamber. The lift opened to reveal and high, arched hallway with red carpet and vanilla walls. The sole source of light came from the line of windows that made up the left wall.

The Jedi followed the increasing crowd of people to the west tower lift. Before the war, Obi Wan always meditated after a council meeting. However, the war had other plans. The Republic was on its back heel. Every senior Jedi was converging on the Jedi War Room for a strategy meeting. There, they would hear the latest reports and decide on a course of action for the Republic military.

Obi Wan gave a kind smile to the guarding sentinels and marched into the war room. It was a large room, with four lines of seats arching around a large holoprojector. As he entered, the Jedi took note of the sparsely populated room. Through death, desertion, or war-related complications this room was growing emptier by the day.

“It never ends,” Obi Wan muttered bitterly, as he found a seat.

He sat down just in time for Anakin and Admiral Yularen to appear on the holoprojector. They were to be the stars of this meeting. After a two-week reconnaissance mission, the duo was expected to deliver a report on General Grievous’s location and his projected course of action.

"As you all know, Grievous has been reaching out into wild space, more and more in an attempt to flank the Republic. To counter we've been deploying probe droids, to find what systems are of importance, and act accordingly. We believe we found one, in many ways," Anakin started.

“Explain,” Master Windu ordered.

Anakin nodded and produced a map of the Wild Space sector in question.

“General Grievous’s fleet is massing at a staging area here at a planet currently designated ‘Nova 1’. From there, he can make an indeterminate number of jumps into wild space. However, strategically, there is only one course that makes sense. It takes him through this system, here—"Admiral Yularen pointed to a planet closer to the galactic core “—designated ‘Sol’, before entering Republic space. By taking this path, he has the choice of attacking any number of Republic targets including but not limited to Coruscant.”

There were muted grumblings and concerned glances traded between Jedi as Admiral Yularen finished giving the technical and strategic information to support their findings.

“The projected timeline for this attack, what is it?” Master Yoda quizzed.

His face displayed no emotion, but Obi Wan could sense his concern in the force as well.

“According to our SIS analysts, they will be in Sol within a few weeks. They could be ready to strike Republic targets any time after that,” Anakin answered crisply.

“It would seem that our only option to intercept General Grievous is to attack his force in the Sol system,” Master Windu observed.

“Even if we could, the Republic simply doesn’t have the forces to intercept Grievous,” cut in Master Koth.

Obi Wan arched his eyebrow as his former padawan shifted uneasily.

“It will not be that simple. The planet is home to 7.3 billion people,” Anakin announced, “Any engagement will affect them greatly.”

Silence fell over the room as everyone considered this latest development. Should the Republic fail to intercept Grievous, there was a good chance he would leave the planet untouched. Of course, doing so would leave any number of Republic planets open to attack.

“Unfortunately, we do not have a choice. We must make a stand, if only long enough for the core worlds to be better reinforced,” Master Windu finally answered with a sigh.

Silent words of agreement and slow nods made it clear that the room agreed. They could risk a few billion lives now or later subject trillions to the terror and bloodshed of an unchecked, Grievous-led fleet. Neither option was a pleasant one

"Disturbing this is. However, more you have, yes?" added Master Yoda.

If the Grand Master could draw out all that Skywalker had to say, then the gathered Jedi might be able to make a more ethically and tactically sound decision.

"Yes Master," Anakin replied, "I will turn it over to the Admiral for the first part though."

With a nod to the Admiral, Anakin stepped back.

"Generals," he acknowledged, "As per protocol, we deployed a probe droid to the system, followed by a stealth ship to gather intel on the planet. What we found was unique. The life sensors were off the charts, with humans being the sentient race. Considering their advancement, they should be branching out to at least some of the nearby planets, but there was no evidence of that yet. Nor is there a central government. The planet is divided up into over a hundred different, independent regions with their own governments. Many of them have their own customs and dialects too. The good news is that the planet seems to have developed multiple battle-hardened military forces. The closest comparison I can make is to the Mandalorian clans."

This was surprising to everyone there. While it was common to have a divided planet. This was an exceedingly high number of territories. Whispers and annoyed groans crossed the room.

“Is there a way they could be united to face a common enemy, like the Mandalorian clans?” quizzed another Jedi.

“With time, more than likely. However, we simply do not have that time,” Admiral Yularen answered.

It was clear by the ever-deepening worry lines on the admiral’s face, that he did not like the idea of digging in on this planet any more than Anakin did.

"What about attempts to unite them?" asked Obi Wan.

"The closest thing to that is the 'UN' also known as the 'United Nations'. However, they only are there to help defuse international issues, not actually govern," the Admiral answered, "Due to time I have sent a copy of the findings to the temple. That is all."

"Our thanks, Admiral," concluded Yoda.

With a nod, Anakin stepped forward as the Admiral left the shot.

Not waiting for anyone, Anakin started, "I went with the stealth ship. The planet is no stronger in the force than any other. However, it does hold a dark undercurrent."

"What do you mean?" asked Master Plo Koon.

"The force signature is that of one that has seen a lot of death and destruction. It isn’t Sith or Sith related. I think it's safe to assume that it comes from its rather violent past. Their recorded history is… well… disturbing to say the least," Anakin answered.

"Interesting. However, not what caught your attention that is," Yoda pressed.

"Yes Master, I strongly believe this planet is the one from the visions," Anakin stated.

This caught everyone's attention.

"Are you sure?" Obi Wan pressed.

"Yes. I found several landmarks that matched those from the visions," he stated confidently, “Searching through the compiled information, I found images and events that closely matched what we have been seeing.”

"Interesting. Investigate this we shall," Yoda declared.

There were several nods of agreement from around the room. With actual resources, many Jedi were hopeful that they could make sense of these visions. The room had little time to contemplate this discovery. Anakin was not about to have his previous concerns that easily dismissed.

"Even if we disregarded the lives on the planet below, Grievous's force is way too big to take on by ourselves," Anakin spoke up, “Three Venator-Class Star Destroyers simply will not be enough. I would be simply throwing away both the Open Circle Fleet and the 501st with nothing to show for it.”

While Anakin did technically have command of a fleet, three Star Destroyers was not going to be sufficient against Grievous. This was something he knew. This was something the Admiral knew, and this was something the temple needed to understand.

"Between Durge and Admiral Trench, we don't have much to spare at the moment," warned Master Koth.

There was a moment of silence as several masters uttered silent agreements. They were stretched dangerously thin.

“The people living below… augment your force they possibly could,” Master Yoda suggested, “Understand the gravity of this threat, they surely would.”

As he spoke, the aging master’s ears drooped with dejection. He knew what he was suggesting, and it didn’t sit well.

“Assuming we could get them organized in time, it wouldn’t resolve the issue of naval superiority,” the Admiral warned.

With that the debate started. No one liked the situation, but several, led by Mace Windu and Plo Koon, felt that there was nothing they could do. Anakin silently listened, his anger growing by the second.

“There are 7.8 billion people on the planet’s surface. They did not ask for this war. They did not want this war. They are not equipped, nor are they advanced enough to be of use. I have three ships and a legion. That is all. There is no winning at Sol,” Anakin snapped.

Caught off guard by Anakin's outburst, the room fell silent. Mace Windu went to tell him to stay out of it but was stopped by Yoda.

"No. Right, Skywalker is. To this system, we must send reinforcements. Little time there is, and answers we need," Yoda answered, “Draw the line there, we will.”

Seeing the Grand Master speak up was enough to sway the room. Slowly, the master’s agreed with the proposal. Originally, Yoda had planned to blend his unit with what was left of the 327th Star Corp to create a combat ready unit that he would lead in this operation. However, he was stopped by Obi Wan’s announcement.

The Jedi shot up from his seat.

“I will go.”

Yoda closed his eyes. He did not like this idea. Obi Wan’s unit had been going hard for months. They were barely combat effective, and their morale was at an all-time low. This was hardly the kind of reinforcements that Anakin required.

 _“Send Kenobi,”_ whispered the force.

Yoda clenched his teeth. Rarely did the force go so counter to his instincts. However, age and wisdom had also told him that that was the most crucial time to follow the will of the Force.

“Go. Aid your former padawan you will, but be careful, you must. Tired your men are. Tired you are,” Yoda decided, “Send more units as soon as they are available, we will.”

His tone mixed with a few hard looks at the various faces in the room silenced any decent. The Grand Master had spoken. There would be no objections.

"I will go ahead with Anakin and see about dealing with the necessary diplomacy. Commander Cody and the rest of the fleet can link up when they are ready," Obi Wan stated, “That will give them time to finish collecting themselves.”

"Very well, and may the force be with you," Master Koth concluded.

The march to the west temple hanger was a solemn one. As he stepped into a waiting gunship, Obi Wan produced his comm link. Upon punching in the right codes, he was rewarded with an image of Commander Cody. The man stood tall and proud, with his shoulders pushed back and his chin high. However, Obi Wan’s experienced eyes could see the exhaustion in his features. It was in the drooping left eyelid. It was hesitation with which he greeted the General. It was also in the way his left hand twitched ever-so-slightly.

“Commander, it would seem that our leave has been cut short,” Obi Wan announced.

There was no point sugar-coating what they both knew was coming.

“Where are we going, sir?” Cody quizzed.

“I am leaving for the Sol System tonight,” Obi Wan announced.

“I’m not familiar with that system,” Cody replied with a confused frown.

“No one was until about two weeks ago. However, General Grievous has made an appearance, and that system is his last stop until Coruscant,” Obi Wan explained, “I’ll send you a full brief once it is drawn up. However, the short of it is that the 212th will be deploying with the 501st, Anakin, and I once it is ready.”

“It’ll be a couple days sir. I’m still getting the new recruits squared away,” Cody warned.

“We’re entering military airspace. Touch down in one minute,” interjected the pilot.

“Thank you,” Obi Wan acknowledged, before turning back to Cody, “Can you have them ready in forty-eight hours?”

The commander hesitated. He could have them ready. However, getting the entire legion ready to leave was going to be quite the task. He could do it, but he couldn’t promise that none of the clones wouldn’t spend the entire trip in the infirmary fighting hangover symptoms.

“Yes sir. I’ll start recalling the men from leave,” Cody answered crisply.

“Good. I’ll see you and the fleet there,” Obi Wan concluded.

As he shut off the commlink, his stomach dropped. The gunship deposited him on one of the outside landing pads of the Republic Military Complex. Upon leaving the gunship, Obi Wan caught a transport ship to Anakin's fleet. The ship entered hyperspace and he began reading the info that Anakin had sent. In an attempt to understand the situation that he was walking into, Obi Wan started with the more recent history (last 200 years). As he was reading, he began to understand what was going on in some of the visions. The UN had its roots in the end of the first World War, however, its predecessor didn't last long before the rise of Nazi Germany brought it to an end. In the wake of that war, the current UN was formed.

As he read of the wars, Obi Wan quickly began to understand why it was so fragmented. The whole planet was a powder keg of differing ideas and fierce independence. Tag on religious fanaticism and he quickly understood why the planet had ripped itself apart twice and had never fully recovered. The only good thing, it seemed was that Obi Wan held no doubt of the skill of the militaries he would be dealing with. Unfortunately, the fact that there was no central government was going to make this process a lot longer and harder than he would like.

 _Well, at least they're trying to put the past behind them,_ he thought as he continued reading.


	2. Faces of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Well, it took me way too long, but I do finally have another chapter up. Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you all have just as much fun reading it.

**(Damascus, Syria)**

The place was a warzone. Rubble clogged the streets, while bullet holes marked up every flat surface. Blackened and burning vehicles were scattered around and buried under fallen buildings. Smoke choked out the sky, while the sound of muffled explosions and gunshots were periodically interrupted by the sound of overhead helicopters.  Under the cover of night, Captain Pierce led his men through the broken city and passed the bodies. His target was an apartment complex three miles away. They hurried from ruined streets to ruined houses and over mounds of rubble. It would be dawn soon and their window would close.

“Jesus, this is fucked up,” he muttered as his light caught the bloody and blackened torso of a child. 

A glance across the charred space, probably a house originally, gave no hints as to where the rest of the little girl had gone. The officer behind him grunted in agreement as he looked across the street. In the greenwash of his night vision, he saw nothing but the laser optics of his men and more broken streets. With the barrel of his rifle pointed out into oblivion, he waved his men across the road.

In the target building, Colonel Yosef lit another cigarette as he stared at the map. A slight tremor in his hand as he worked the lighter hinted at the agitation hiding just below the surface. In front of him, a Syrian General tried to spell out their current plan. It was a questionable one at best. In theory, he planned to use his small supply of tanks to smash through the center of the rebel lines and cut their pocket in two. From there, Russian air support and government troops should be able to mop up what few would still be left alive. Colonel Yosef let out a bitter laugh as the man concluded. 

“Are you stupid, Ahmed? Or, are you just fantasizing?” the Colonel demanded as he waved his cigarette.

General Ahmed locked his jaw as he stared down the Russian officer. Being insulted was bad enough. Being insulted by a man that was technically his subordinate was even worse. 

“No. We have the forces to liquidate this pocket. So, we will do so,” he snapped.

“Do you remember what happened the last FOUR times we tried to do that?” Colonel Yosef demanded.

“We suffered some setbacks.” 

“Your men were slaughtered. Their bodies still rot in the streets. The dogs have yet to clean the flesh off their bones, and already, you want to try again,” Colonel Yosef reminded him.

His voice was cold and harsh. He was a tired old warhorse who didn’t appreciate playing “dog handler” for a bunch of inept foreign officers. His only consolation was knowing that they would all eventually be burning in hell where they belonged. 

As far as he was concerned, they were doing all that they could do. Assad was a powerful man, but he could do nothing to change their current position. War did not care about what was politically convenient. Regardless of what President Assad wanted, these rebels were too well equipped to simply muscle through. They would have to starve. The military would simply have to keep them pinned down until they were all dead or dying. Only then would his overstretched and ill-equipped military be able to wipe them out.

“Keep the skies clear and we won’t have that problem,” General Ahmed snapped.

“How? How do we do that? Moscow won’t start a war with the Americans. Neither should they. This is your mess. Russia will not fall on its sword for you,” Colonel Yosef ranted. 

Anger and exhaustion caused his words to fall in and out of Russian. The exact contents of the sentence would later be a matter of debate among the Syrian officers who were present, as a result. However, it didn’t matter. The Colonel gave them the punchline in perfect Arabic.

“If you wish to proceed with this plan, you will fight and die alone,” he announced through gritted teeth. 

There was a moment of stunned silence. The General turned to his other officers who could only offer worried shrugs. Russia had threatened to withdraw from the city before. However, the offer of a warm port had always been enough to keep them around. Surely, the Colonel had orders to support them. He had to help them, didn’t he?

“Call Moscow if you wish. Unless you have a better plan or something more tangible… say… the American stored in the basement… Nothing leaves the tarmac tomorrow,” Yosef said.

General Ahmed tilted his head.

“I don’t understand. We don’t-”

“Don’t play stupid. I’m not a fuckin’ child and will not be treated as such. You are keeping an American in the lower levels,” the Colonel snapped, “If he is an agent, we will be happy to take him off your hands. If not, you better cut him loose. We do not need the tangled mess that comes with foreign civilians. Either way, you better make your decision fast. The Americans take care of their own, and they have a nasty habit of leaving multiple dead bodies in their wake.”

Suddenly, the entire building shook. Smoke trickled in through the vents and the radios suddenly flooded with panicked voices. Soldiers darted out of the room with rifles in hand. Those remaining in the room retreated toward the back wall. As they did so, their eyes uneasily drifted between the different outside windows. 

Down in the basement, Captain Pierce was in the center of the chaos. Gunshots echoed off the concrete walls. Men shouted back and forth as waves of Syrian troops came pouring out of the stairwells. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as he led the charge down the hallway. Suddenly, a door swung open to his left. He whipped his rifle around and fired. The lone officer went stumbling back as a three-round burst tore through his chest. Behind him, another Ranger opened up with his machine gun. Bullets tore through the door at the end of the passage. Through the roar of the gun, the faint sound of blood-curdling screams could be heard as bullets cut through the group coming down the passage. 

The captain forced the sounds from his head and willfully ignored the river of blood flowing down the hall as he read off each door number. With each passing number, his heart climbed further into his throat. He was looking for a certain room. Yet he was not finding it. With each passing minute, more people rushed into the maze of hallways and rooms. It wasn’t until they hit the very last door the room they were looking for. 

“Hatfield! Check the door!” he shouted over the bark of his rifle. 

“Yes, sir.” 

With that, a kid of twenty suddenly broke rank. He took off past the Captain and stood in front of the door. He slung his M4 over his back and immediately began running his fingers along the edge of the door. He examined the handle with appraising eyes and knelt inspecting the gap between the door and the floor. As he worked, bullets streaked by. Each passing second was a second where he cheated death. Each passing second was one missed step away from being his last. However, his luck seemed to hold. He popped up and turned to Captain Pierce. 

“Door’s clear!” he shouted.

With that, everyone set to work. The group stacked up on the door with Pierce at the front. Everyone tensed as a stern-faced sergeant trotted to the front of the group. In his hands was their ticket inside. 

_ BANG! BANG! _

Wood splintered as the shotgun destroyed the hinges. He slammed his foot into the door and Pierce led the charge inside. The lone guard inside went down in a hail of bullets. As he slumped to the ground, Captain Pierce turned his attention to the dining room. It was a small, dirty affair. The table had been removed and replaced by a smaller one full of bloodied tools and chemicals that made the man shutter. 

He barked orders to his men and turned his attention to the one chair left in the room. A man sat in the chair, limp in the restraints. His skin was caked with grime and blood, while his hair was matted and hung low in his eyes. The Captain tilted the man’s head up as he produced a picture from his right breast pocket. All blood and dirt aside, there was no mistake. They had the right man. 

“This is Captain Pierce with the 75th Ranger Regiment. We’re here to get you out,” he explained as he firmly patted the man’s cheek, “Can you walk?” 

As he talked, the Captain began cutting away the man’s restraints. 

“I… I think so,” the man answered as he staggered to his feet.

The Captain traded his rifle for a sidearm and wrapped his free arm around the man. As the two of them staggered out, others collected the rest of what they needed and cleared a hole out of the building. 

Getting out seemed to be easier than getting in as the number of Syrian troops suddenly dropped in number. Unbeknownst to the Americans, they had been ordered to back off due to pressure from Colonel Yosef. Russian air defenses had picked up an orbiting pack of A-10s and supporting F-22s. Whatever the Agent had found, it certainly wasn’t worth enduring the firepower being pointed at them.

**(Washington D.C.: Next Morning)**

Haley Coleman was one of the best. Her connections in Washington ran deep. She was friends with everyone, yet she trusted no one. She knew what strings to pull to get what she wanted. Perhaps this is why the President had pulled her into his campaign. He was a relatively inexperienced governor from out west, and she was an “insider”. She had lived on the Beltway and would die there. Or so she thought. 

“Thank you, Senator. We’ll be in touch,” she concluded as she showed the Senator to the door. 

“I look forward to it,” he answered as he eagerly shook her hand.

The door clicked shut and she turned back to the desk. The President let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a younger man of 37, with slick, black hair and an easy grin. How he got elected was a mystery Coleman had yet to understand. However, it didn’t matter. He was here and her political gamble had paid off. 

“He isn’t gonna get us what we want, is he?” the President asked.

His tone was tired and his face pulled down from dejection. She shook her head in confirmation.

“No… not unless you want to throw away any chance at a second term. The Democrats still won’t endorse you and the Republicans will hang you out to dry,” Coleman answered clinically.

The President’s face flushed as he stared at the stack of papers in front of him. In a rare moment of candor, he sent his pen skipping across the desk.

“It’s a fucking infrastructure bill… a bipartisan issue! Why can’t they just push it through already?” he fumed.

Coleman could only shake her head. She had spent her career knee-deep in the corruption and backstabbing. Yet, even she had to admit that this was going too far. At a certain point, political maneuvering had to give way to actual governance. Perhaps that’s why she’d allied herself with the only honest man left in this God-forsaken city. 

“Everyone wants something out of the deal. Now, I can get this pushed through. However, I need you to trust me,” she finally spoke up.

The president leaned back in his chair. He was well aware of who she was and what she was capable of. His eyes narrowed. 

“What do you have in mind?” he asked. 

Coleman opened her mouth to speak. However, she was interrupted by a knock on the door of the Oval Office. 

“Yes,” the President answered. 

His voice was short and clipped. The annoyance was still dripping from his words. An aid cautiously opened the door. 

“Director Holland is here for his 11 o’clock,” the lady announced.

Behind her was Director Holland, the president’s CIA director. Holland was a man of fifty with a sharp mind and aging features. A career in the Navy had left his square face weathered and caused his hair to grey further with every passing minute.

“Good morning, Director,” the president greeted.

As he shook the man’s hand, Coleman dismissed the aid. The door swung shut and the President found his seat again. 

“Director, tell me you have some good news,” the President began with a sigh.

Director Holland shrugged as he passed over a thick file.

“Well, we were able to extract our agent from Damascus. He is doing well. No one of consequence was killed, and we are still not at war with the Russians,” the Director answered, “However, you will be reading about another flyby incident in the paper. The Russians didn’t take kindly to us flying over their headquarters with enough missiles to raise the city.”

The president let out a grunt that couldn’t decide if it was in approving or annoyed. As he did so, he took a sip of his coffee.

“Did you at least get the package?” Coleman quizzed. 

“Yes ma’am,” the Director answered

The unease in his voice made it clear that it hadn’t been that simple and silenced any questions. Whatever they didn’t know, could be denied later if need be. The president scooped up the file and began reading it. There were pages of reports with images dispersed throughout. There were pictures of craters and dead bodies. There were images of floating metal spiders that looked like they belonged in a bad sci-fi movie. Silence fell as he sorted through the information. It was a lot to process. Given the fact that the president knew something about the situation, the Director simply let him read. Questions could be answered afterward. 

“Over the past several days two more of these things have crash-landed?” the president asked.

The way he looked over the top of the file made his unease clear.

“Yes, sir. One basically fell on a Kurdish supply convoy, while the second landed along the Russian/Chinese border,” the Director confirmed.

Coleman scowled as she read over the president’s shoulder.

“Some bloodbath that turned into,” she muttered.

“Not if you ask Russians or the Chinese,” the president quipped with a wry smile.

For the last several years, the two countries had been quietly fighting through a border dispute. The event had gotten bloody on multiple occasions. However, it was never enough to spark a war, and the number of civilians killed in the crossfire ensured that neither country publicly acknowledged the matter.

“So, where are we on determining what these are?” the president quizzed.

The Director let out a dejected sigh before answering. In short, they were no closer than they were several days ago. Two of the three had self-destructed while the third one in Syria had vanished into the chaos of the war. The self-destructed ones were made of a titanium alloy that was exceedingly rare on Earth. An internal explosion had gutted each craft and left them with little more than an outer shell. Witness reports claimed that it was armed with some kind of laser weapon. Usually, these accounts would be viewed skeptically at best. However, data provided by NASA scientists and astronauts suggested that this craft had not come from Earth. They were likely alien, and thus anything was on the table.

The president leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the CIA director finished spelling out their current situation. Truthfully, he didn’t know where to start. They had several rapidly deteriorating geopolitical situations and at least one alien craft flying unchecked through the worst possible place.

“Work with the Defense Department. I want that missing craft found and brought in, intact,” the president ordered.

“Yes, sir.” 

**(GAR Resolute: Sol System)**

The Resolute sat hunkered down along the outer edge of the system. The nearest planet was an hour away, and Earth was almost a day passed that. Given the state of the planet, Admiral Yularen had determined that this was the location that was least likely to get them spotted or otherwise cause issues. 

Inside a cramped, six-by-six room, sat Anakin Skywalker. He felt as cold and empty as the vacuum that encased their ship. Blackness snuffed out any warmth in the room as Anakin stared at the opposite wall. In his hands was a half-written letter. Next to him was the latest SIS report on Grievous’s fleet-- an intelligence document that he had helped draft. The highlights included thirty-seven Munificent-Class Frigates, twenty Providence-Class Dreadnaughts, fifteen Lucrehulk-Class Battleships, and enough supporting craft to smash through the Coruscant defense fleet. In short, Anakin’s fleet was outgunned by more than five times. Unless his men and Obi Wan’s men could pull off a miracle, they would be little more than a speed bump on the way to Coruscant. 

Anakin lowered his eyes down to the letter in his hand. 

**_Padme,_ **

**_I’m sorry that I am not able to be home with you as I expected. Something has come up. We’ve been re-deployed to intercept General Grievous’s fleet. This time I won’t be as far away. We are being deployed into wild space just outside the core. Of course, how close he is to Coruscant is what makes this mission so important. We’ve stopped him before and we’ll do it now. However, this time..._ **

Anakin stared at the words as though staring at his own death sentence. He slowly shook his head as he stared at the digital keyboard. Bringing himself to finish was nearly impossible. He growled as he pulled his emotions under control and angrily deleted the last few words. 

**_Padme,_ **

**_I’m sorry that I am not able to be home with you as I expected. Something has come up. We’ve been re-deployed to intercept General Grievous’s fleet. This time I won’t be as far away. We are being deployed into wild space just outside the core. Of course, how close he is to Coruscant is what makes this mission so important. We’ve stopped him before and we’ll do it now._ **

**_Padme. Remember that I love you. No matter what, I always have and always will. Take care of the apartment and buy that dress you liked so much. Regardless of what the others say, it looks amazing and you deserve it. Give your mother an extra hug for me._ **

Anakin scowled as he stared at the words. They were truthful, but they spoke too much of impending doom. No doubt, she’d read it and begin to worry. Of course, that was reality. People died and people got hurt. That was a fact of war, along with the associated emotions. However, he surely could do more to lessen it. Like the first draft, he had no intention of finishing this one. Anakin was about to delete the lines when his commlink chimed. He let out a sigh, shook his head free of his thoughts, and answered.

“Commander Skywalker,” he said. 

“General Kenobi just landed in the main hanger. He’s on his way to the bridge,” Captain Rex answered crisply.

As the words entered Anakin’s ears, he visibly relaxed. His shoulders slumped and his hands loosened as he released tension that he didn’t realize had built up. General Kenobi was here.  _ His  _ master was here. Everything would be ok just as it always was.

“Understood. I’ll meet him up there,” Anakin readily acknowledged.

With that, he put away his letter, shelved his emotions, and hurried out of his quarters. As he made his way to the bridge, he took several calming breaths. Despite the calming presence of his master, he was still worked up. The last several months have been hard. He’d given so much and lost so many in return. Between the death of Fives, the loss of Ahsoka, Barris Offee’s betrayal, and the rapidly escalating war he felt as though he was being torn apart inside. As he wound his way down the passages, he flushed his emotions and put on his characteristic mask of bravado. Morale was low across the legion. He really didn’t need to add to it. The blast doors to the bridge hissed open and his eyes zeroed in on his old master.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Anakin announced with a cocky grin.

Obi-Wan looked up from the holo map with a warm, albeit tired smile. 

“Well, look who’s late again,” he chided. 

Anakin offered an innocent shrug as he approached the board. Across from them, Admiral Yularen didn’t bother to look up from the map as he made notations in his datapad. The man seemed to be aging by the minute as his eyes dissected the map. He knew they were screwed. However, he needed to figure out just how badly. 

“Generals there are just too many variables. Until I know where we diplomatically stand with the planet, there is no way to effectively deploy the fleet,” the Admiral finally declared with a tired sigh, “If they will cooperate, then I can stay longer. We can pick off some of Grievous’s ships as they move through the asteroid belt before falling back to Earth. There, I can lower the fleet into the atmosphere and use their missiles to augment our firepower. If not, then I’m afraid we won’t last long enough to have any real effect… not with numbers like that.”

Anakin shook his head. He did not like that plan at all. The last time an Admiral had tried something like that, Anakin and Ahsoka had nearly been killed trying to save Aya Secura from the burning remains of her own warship. 

“I’m afraid the Admiral does have a point. Grievous will be in the system soon. I think it’s time we met the locals,” Obi-Wan agreed.

As he deflected Anakin’s unspoken objection, he thoughtfully stroked his beard. This was certainly going to be an interesting mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. Now that you all have read (and hopefully enjoyed) the first chapter, there are a couple notes. 
> 
> 1) Star Wars does not exist as a movie franchise. "If go down the meta-path you do, forever will it curse your writing."-Master Yoda (probably)
> 
> 2) It's a simple fact that the laws of science will have to be bent and broken to make this story work. However, I will keep it consistent. If "A" affects "B" in a certain way in one chapter, it will continue to do so through out the story unless I give a specific reason for it to change. 
> 
> 3) I will try to cut to other countries as much as I can. However, I can tell you now that I will favor settings in North America on grounds that that is what I know. I know the language. I know the customs, and I know the military. That said, there will be multiple major and minor plot points happening in other countries. 
> 
> Now that I have said all of that, please let me know what you think. I do appreciate feedback, and will gladly listen to and address any concerns. Have a great day, and I'll see you next time. :)


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